


five times lucifer morningstar was scared and one time he was terrified

by penrosequartz



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alcohol, Angel Wings, Angst, F/M, Inspired by Music, Internal Monologue, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) Needs A Hug, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Queerplatonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-30 23:42:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19037938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penrosequartz/pseuds/penrosequartz
Summary: everything i've told you was true.so imagine my surprise when i blink my eyesand realisei've been talking to you.





	five times lucifer morningstar was scared and one time he was terrified

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by six songs, all of which i believe can be found on [my lucifer playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/penrosequartz/playlist/2bsh2ikfQqfQZTtfUypMq1?si=1ZobxqXMRnKxJfxD3v3dzQ). enjoy!

 

**1\. the mountains to the north of us** **  
**

He doesn’t lie, so this shouldn’t be weird. This shouldn’t be strange at all. He doesn’t lie.

Well-

No, he doesn’t lie, but he also doesn’t bare his soul to anybody who asks, doesn’t blurt things out like some idiot mortal. He’s surprised, that’s all; she asked, and he answered, without a second thought. And everything he said was the truth, the whole of it, and nothing but.

Anyway, he’s not thinking about that right now. He’s not thinking about how Chloe makes him feel, not thinking about Heaven or Hell, not thinking about truth and lies. He’s just thinking about the guy who pulled a gun and is threatening to shoot them both. Naturally, this isn’t a concern for him, but Chloe could get hurt.

Maybe he is thinking about how Chloe makes him feel, after all - if indirectly. There are more guys coming. They need to leave. She’s dragging him along. What _is_ she? Is she human, to pull the truth from him like that? To pull these feelings from him? What are the emotions he’s feeling? Are they lust, confusion? No, no - it’s this magnetic pull, an attraction, but not in a physical sense. More like the way someone is attracted to the sea, to the city.

Bullets rain around them and apprehension jumps in Lucifer’s mind, _get out, get Chloe out,_ and that itself causes a deeper spike of fear. He’s attached, and he’s only known her for a few weeks. It’s a shock, just for a moment, as they spill into the street, pile into Chloe’s car, voices on the radio, heavy breathing as his heart rate slows. How very human.

He allows himself a small smile as Chloe puts the pedal to the floor, steals a glance at her to discover that her face presents a grin as well.

How very human, indeed. ****

 

****2\. nobody owes you now** **

Chloe doesn’t know how she feels about him. He’s… the opposite of the kind of person she’d usually _want_ to spend time with, he’s egocentric, impulsive, and he doesn’t do what he’s told.

Somehow, though, it always seems to work out. _“I am of some assistance, though, am I not?”_ She doesn’t know what to say to that. He’s right.

She’d be lying if she said he wasn’t attractive, you know, objectively - not that she’s objectifying him. Yes, he’s hot, but she doesn’t want to fuck him. She doesn’t want to kiss him under an arch, either (not just because of how disastrously her last marriage went). She doesn’t know what she wants. She wants… a friend? A useful coworker? Someone to talk to, laugh with? A drink?

She wants a drink.

Lucifer is nowhere to be seen on the lower level, so his terrifying bartender (with a dirty look) directs her to an elevator.

“Level four,” Maze drawls, and doesn’t add anything else.

The elevator is cold, and there’s a stone in Chloe’s stomach as it occurs to her that maybe - just maybe - she shouldn’t be here.

That feeling of dread dissipates when the doors open. Lucifer is absolutely absorbed, fingers skating across the keys like birds darting over waves. She’s doesn’t recognise the song, but he sounds beautiful singing it.

_“The power, the power, the power,”_ he sings, _“Of L.A….”_

The power. Chloe recalls something Lucifer said his therapist told him, something Chloe had actually agreed with - that L.A. changes people, that it’s where people go to… _reinvent_ themselves. Lucifer had thought it ridiculous, but Chloe knows Linda is right, and it gives her a nice kind of satisfaction to see that Lucifer is just as susceptible to the charms of Los Angeles as anybody else.

_“But nobody knows you now, when you’re dying in L.A.,”_ Lucifer’s voice is cracking like ice in the sun - he’s upset, and Chloe feels out of place again, she’s being invasive, being intrusive, _“Nobody owes you now, when you’re dying in L.A….”_

His voice trails off. He doesn’t finish the song, lets his hands slip from the piano, and it makes an unpleasant sound. He doesn’t seem to care, or even notice. He sips his scotch.

“You have a good voice,” Chloe says, unthinkingly, and he drops the glass as it journeys from his lips to its resting place atop the black-varnished instrument.

“Bloody _hell,_ Detective!” He exclaims, grasping his chest, before glancing down at the broken glass, “What a waste.”

“I am so sorry,” Chloe walks towards him immediately.

“No, no-” Lucifer holds his arm out, gesturing for her to stay still, “There’s glass everywhere, you just- you stay there, please.”

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” she begins, observing the tear tracks obviously present on his usually charming face, “Lucifer…”

“I’m quite alright, don’t worry,” Lucifer grins at her, “I’ve had worse than a little jumpscare in my time.”

Chloe doesn’t say anything. Lucifer must know that she knows he’s lying. She doesn’t like the idea of him lying to her. She… doesn’t think he’s ever actually done it, until now.

Lucifer makes his way carefully around the glass, stands in front of her with his hands in his pockets and his head cocked, smile carefully arranged.

“What can I do for you?” He asks.

“I…” Chloe is suddenly aware that she’s not actually here for any specific reason. She’d wanted a drink, but she could have just had one downstairs - or, in fact, at any of the other bars in the city.

“I wanted to see you,” she says, and it’s true. She doesn’t love him, not like _that_ , but she does want to be here. She does want to help him, and she wants him to help her.

Lucifer smiles, just slightly; that, Chloe decides, is her first priority - get Lucifer to smile more, not in that fake way he does, not in that vaguely-menacing way he saves for criminals, but the way he’s smiling now, genuinely, hesitantly, unexpectedly.

“Wanna pour two more?” Chloe asks. ****

 

****3\. swimming pools under desert skies** **

Chloe is aware that Lucifer is dangerous. She has no idea who he is, where he came from. Maybe he’s killed a man - deep in her soul, she knows, of course he has. How many?

His eyes are so dark, sometimes, the light shining off them the same way it glints off his car, reflecting, absorbing. She doesn’t know what to expect from him, can’t get a read on whether he is essentially good, or essentially bad.

Sure, he has a moral code, but it’s so… skewed, in comparison to her own, so entirely different, so narrow, that it almost seems he’s from another world.

_What, Britain?_

He’s probably a killer, and definitely a conman, but she likes to work with him, and she’s glad to have found a friend. L.A. tends to make people lonely and lost, even with its huge population. She’s lucky.

They’re driving, the sunset painting the sky red, orange, pink, so brilliant that it seems to desaturate the neon signs slipping by them. For a moment she can’t remember why they’re on the streets of the city, why Lucifer is speeding along, the wind whipping her face so harshly, and then-

“Detective?” Lucifer snaps his fingers next to her ear, “I know it’s all very pretty, but we are still being followed by the mob, so do me a favour and _call the precinct,_ would you?”

“Right!” Chloe dials the number and barks down the line. Lucifer looks nervous as he checks his rearview mirror, maybe even a little afraid. She can’t understand why; a car chase, as he’d say, would usually be exactly what he needed to _“get the adrenaline pumping.”_

“Are you scared?” She asks, point blank, and he doesn’t take his eyes off the road for a second.

“Forgive me for being a little cautious, but we’re both altogether _too mortal_ at the moment for me to be driving like a maniac,” his lips purse. He’s definitely over the limit, but he doesn’t drive recklessly, no matter what the car seems to indicate.

“I thought you’d enjoy this,” Chloe grins. Not that she is, but, you know. Going fast isn’t bad. Kind of feels like flying.

“Enjoy what, being shot at?”

“Nobody’s shooting at us, Lucifer, in fact-“ Chloe turns and gives the street behind them a once-over, “I think you lost them. Well done.”

Lucifer slows, but doesn’t stop.

“Where are we going?” Chloe frowns, “We have to go back to the precinct.”

“ _I_ will, _”_ Lucifer sounds anxious, “But I’m taking you home. You’re late for Trixie’s bedtime story, or something.”

Chloe pauses. She wants to protest, but he’s technically right. She wonders why he’s so edgy about this - he never used to have any survival instincts at all. But perhaps he’d been blinded by the glory of Los Angeles, unafraid to die, and he’s just now coming around. Wouldn’t be the first time.

 

****4\. waiting on a bloodline** **

He knows he’s acting shifty. He’s not stupid - but he is worried. He keeps telling everyone it’s exciting! It’s new! Mortality is so invigorating! But deep down, he’s afraid.

Because it’s Chloe that makes him like this. Makes him weak, makes him bleed. Who wouldn’t be scared of that?

And if anyone found out… that Lucifer Morningstar had a weakness, that Lucifer Morningstar was quite laughably _easy_ to kill, as long as you had a gun and Chloe Decker… She’s a weak link, his Achilles heel. He can’t have her out there, tarnishing his brand! Because that’s what he’s worried about, of course, not that Chloe could be used against him somehow.

He’s so fucking scared. Scared that anyone - his brothers, his father, some stupid mortal criminal - could realise, in an instant, that Chloe _means_ something to him. It doesn’t have to be love for someone to exploit it; he does love her, of course, but it’s different. It’s… in a different place.

For someone who is often accused of thinking with his dick, the feelings he has for Chloe come from his- well, his heart, he supposes. He wants to be near her. He wants to laugh with her. Wants to tear apart anyone who looks at her wrong.

Is that love? Is that what love is?

Perhaps.

But he doesn’t want to kiss her, doesn’t want to sleep with her - well, not anymore, not really. That was just a challenge, mostly. He doesn’t _understand_ this, doesn’t understand anything that’s happening. He hurts. He hurts in his skin and his muscles and his head. He hurts in his chest like there’s a huge cave in there and someone’s just going at it with a jackhammer, the sound and the pain echoing, ricocheting, until he can’t take it anymore.

Not for the first time, thinking about his feelings for Chloe leads to thinking about his father. He hates him - but does he? Has he given him these feelings? Will he take them away? He’s hating God, he’s hating his dad, and - plot twist - they’re the same person! He doesn’t know how much more of these pesky emotions he can take. He feels like they’re breaking him apart.

He takes a shot. Chloe gives him a look. They’re supposed to be working. The music is loud. She has nice eyes, kind eyes, sad sometimes.

If he’s going to accept that this thing, this strangeness that’s going on with him, is entirely out of control, he’s _really_ going to have to accept it. He’s going to have to, as they say, “own it.”

He looks Chloe dead in the eye and does another shot. She looks… thoughtful.

That’s not really what he was expecting (an eye roll, maybe), but he’ll certainly take it.

 

****5\. canaries in the mines** **

It’s cold, wherever he is, the fires burning beneath unfelt and unheard, the knife in his hand again, again, as he plunges it into Uriel’s body over and over. He deserves this. He deserves hell.

Lucifer wakes up shaky, sweat shining on his clammy skin. Chloe’s couch is too small for him, and yet, here he is, shivering beneath the wooden blanket she’d thrown him. He’s back in the real world, where LUX is gone, and he still sees his brother whenever he closes his eyes, unable to escape.

He doesn’t want to wake the kid up, but he can’t shake Uriel’s eyes from his mind, so he takes the option of a shower without much persuasion. He draws his symbol, or what used to be, in the fogged-up mirror as he changes back into his clothes.

He didn’t think he would, but he misses his wings. Sometimes he thinks he can still feel them, phantom pains spiking along his back, and he traces his hands over the scars, flinching.

After he’s redressed, he makes his way back to the living room, stands there looking out the window. It’s not a huge, beautiful view, not like the one he so misses at LUX, but it’ll do.

He can’t remember what Uriel said. Was it gibberish, the vestiges of a dying brain? Or was it something deeper, profound, important? He can feel it slipping further away, even now.

When he feels Chloe’s hand on his back, for the first time, he doesn’t jump. He doesn’t hiss at the contact where his wings used to be. He just presses back into her comforting touch, wordlessly asking for reassurances that he’s okay.

He’s not, but he will be. And this… thing, that he has with Chloe, he thinks that’s what will get him there. ****

 

****+1. greyhound bus** **

He’d just seen her this morning. He’d- he’d _just_ smiled at her, made jokes, had her laugh along with him, and now…

Upon a certain discovery, Chloe had become angry. An ex of hers - absolute bastard of a man - had come back into town. And he’d _killed_ somebody, and they got the case, because of course they did. Because the universe hates them both, doesn’t it?

She’d been so mad, when she figured it out. Knew he was trying to get her attention.

“If that’s what he wants,” she’d said in this tone, like cracking your knuckles for a fight, “I’ll give it to him.”

Idiot. Stupid, stupid - Chloe, and himself as well, because he let her. She wanted to go after him, wanted to split up, cover more ground, and he just _let_ her. And now she’s bleeding out on the floor in front of him.

He is not going to let her die. He is not going to _allow_ her to die.

They just worked things out. Last week, she’d told him she loved him - in a friendly way - and he’d freaked out, but she’d explained. He was still confused, naturally, but spending time with Chloe felt good, felt easy, like she understood him without trying. And he understood her, in turn.

“Lucifer,” she chokes out, “I don’t want to die-”

“You’re not going to die,” he replies firmly, not knowing where his confidence comes from. It’s surely unfounded.

He’s so scared, he’s- he’s more than scared, he’s terrified, petrified. Chloe could - won’t - could die here in his arms, right now, and he has no way to stop it, no tricks up his sleeve, just fear and horror and _please, Dad, no, not yet, not now._

“Trixie…” Chloe takes a shuddering breath, “You have to look after her, okay? You gotta- you gotta help Dan.”

“You’ll be helping Detective Douche yourself, thank you very much.”

“Bury me somewhere nice, will you?” She asks, eyes sliding to the side, following dancing dust particles and other objects unseen.

Lucifer shakes his head, hoisting Chloe into his arms, preparing to make his way out of the abandoned gas station they are unfortunately located in.

“You are not going to die,” he repeats, softly, mostly to himself. Chloe Decker is his only true friend on the planet. He is not going to let her leave it.

When she finally wakes in the hospital, several hours later, Lucifer knows he was right.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm aware it's not great and i do ship deckerstar but i just wanted to do a little platonic fic because it's real loving your QPP hours over here!  
> also, please, i'm begging you, no spoilers, i'm only halfway through season 2.


End file.
